Blinded by Silk (BTS Jimin)

9.

I have two more auditions left. Two left. Thank goodness indeed. This year I stretched myself, I went out of my comfort zone---completely. In the past years, I only went to a few, four at maximum. Not this time. I’m not here to play around, I’m here to get chosen. I’m here to pursue my dream. I’m here even though everyone doubted me. I’m here to prove that dreams come true. I’m here to prove everyone wrong. 

I’m here in this world for a reason. I am here. I will win. 

There is no way I can lose. Not this time.

Sadly, Jimin isn’t here with me right now. He has his auditions and ambitions to pursue. I sent my love and support with him as he goes in front of panels full of judges. He has a lot more energy and spunk. He will most definitely get chosen. 

I know he will. 

I have faith in him. 

He does have a certain company in mind already. I hope they want him as much as he wants them. 

I approach the near sky-high building, lines of young adults outside the glass doors, waiting to get in. I shake off any fear or doubt in my mind and get in line. 

No time like the present, right?

♡

I thought after the previous auditions, the waiting room wouldn’t feel so long. But this handful is taking forever to go through. Some leave before they’re even called. I debate on following them. 

I snap out of that mindset. I can’t think like that. I will not resign. I will not run away out of uncertainty. Three years is enough. I will rise after being on the bottom for so long.

Once my number is finally called, I enter the room. The table of judges is facing the intimidating duct tape X. Except, the seat in the middle is empty. There is no person. There is no clipboard. There is no fancy, shiny pen with a company logo. There is no dominating presence in this room. Since we all know, those in the middle are the main attraction. The one you want to be chosen from. The top dog. The serious competition.  

I bow before the present judges as my papers are handed out to them. But they place a paper where the empty seat is. I try to keep my inquisitive self in check. 

I try too, okay? I can’t but want to ask questions. 

The silence is so pronounced that I can make out the song playing next door and follow along to the rhythm. I can’t name the exact song and the title, but I know it. It’s a pretty popular song at the moment. But what is it exactly? That I can’t say. 

An elderly woman crosses her fingers, they’re covered in all types of rings. Yet, strange enough, her wedding band finger is vacant. Odd. I don’t know if it's because she wants to show off the significance she places in marriage or is a major diss to whomever she was with. 

“Miss Bok, will you start?” 

Speak up, you gotta say something. 

“This may be out of place, but shouldn’t I want until the remaining judge comes back? So it’s fair?” 

“Do as you wish.” She finishes without missing a beat. Her response shocks me. I thought I was going to get reprimanded for questioning their authority. Questioning why it's not as I expected. As if what I care about matters to them. 

The next few awkward minutes pass by, like a snail stuck in wet cement. They seem eternal. Surprisingly, the panel grows impatient before me. Then again, they don’t have to deal with a certain snapback dancer every day who is always getting into trouble. If and when he finds his soulmate, I will have my hands full with the two of them. 

“She’s late.”

“Just wait. She had to speak to her manager on short notice. You out of all people should understand.”

“Why is she here anyway? Doesn’t she have to be at a photoshoot or something?” the ring lady glares at the young man. Who is remarkably younger than the other evaluators present. I wonder what he is doing here? Shouldn’t he be the one at a photoshoot instead?

“She is someone you don’t want to mess around with. You can put your rivalry to the side, right?” he crosses his arms. 

“Whatever.”

I shuffle my feet around. Then the door opens. As if I stepped into a dream, there she stands in all her glory and splendor. 

Mi Sun. 

Her glossy and manicured hands clench the chair and she sits down. 

Of course, she would show up. Mi Sun always appears in my mind before something major or important. Your conscious summoned her to soothe the anxiety. Thank you, brain. You’re saving me from doing something ridiculous or stupid. 

But the funny this is, the others at the table---they talk to her. 

I can’t be losing it. I’m not losing it, right?

“I’m glad you joined us, Mi Sun. You had us worried for a bit.” Mi Sun adjusts her posture.

“Excuse me, I am sorry to make all of you wait.”

Wait, that's her? She isn’t a figment of my imagination? She’s here? She’s actually here in person? But, something is wrong. 

Her face is thinner. Her eyes have lost their luminous glow. Her platinum blonde hair makes her skin look deathly pale. Everything that was once human about her has changed. This can’t be Mi Sun. 

This isn’t the Mi Sun I know and love. 

Our eyes meet, but that spark of recognition doesn’t bring her to life. My heart plummets into my stomach.

Mi Sun smiles at me, her one tooth now straightened and leveled with her other teeth. But the joy in her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It doesn’t connect. 

This isn’t Mi Sun. 

This can’t possibly be Mi Sun. 

“Please, go on with the act you have practiced. I can’t wait to see it.” Her robotic and sadistic tone causes chills to run down my spine. 

This isn’t Mi Sun. 

This can’t be Mi Sun. 

Mi Sun, what did they do to you? 

♡

A/N: and this is why I said there might be a part two. Might. I may do a forward instead.....idk. But I know this story isn't complete yet. I feel it in me gut. This is what I think I'm going to do......I'll work on the project I've started (a short story like this one for Taehyung) and then think about part two's storyline. How does that sound??????? It sounds good to me.

♡